I Died
by flippednique
Summary: It's your previous death that brings you back to life. You have to endure going through it a hundred times. Being reborn is a matter of choice. You can suffer through the storm for the clear skies after or you can give up. This is the story of how I found my s-soulmate. Y-You don't have to read it if you don't want to. It's not like I c-care or anything dammit!
1. Prologue

There are moments where you stop and think, "Hey... everything's finally... gonna be okay."

Finally, you're getting that happy ending you deserve. Bring out the corny background music and that ominous disembodied voice. Cue the words "Happily Ever After!" at the count of three please and THAT, ladies and gentleman, is another fan-fucking-tastic wrap!

Then of course life becomes an absolute bitch that plays crazily with destiny and fate and shit just hits the fucking fan even worser than when you forgot to study for an exam because you were too busy being bored. _Ughh_.

Let me tell you, based on personal experience, that getting run through with a sword is never ever fun. It can be a long sword or a plain dagger but I cannot stress any more on the fact that that shit is painful and I ask you for the love of all that's Italian that you do **NOT** try it for the sake of _shits and giggles_, because you will **regret** it when you're reborn. Or should I say, **if** you're reborn. Scared yet?

Same goes for getting shot, losing your head, getting poisoned, suffocating, getting stabbed, drowning, choking, getting run over, tripping over something completely random and getting your head cracked open or - the worst- _dying from old age._

The agony of your previous death is what actually brings you _back_ to life, you know. Something about having to brave the fucking rain and storm before the stupid rainbow shows itself to you, and I can also personally tell you that there is NO pot of gold at the end. Stupid leprechauns lied!

To continue though... just imagine going through that process, any of the enumerated above, a hundred- no _thousand_, a thousand times before you're reborn. To be reborn is to be given another chance, another life. To do what though? To live life, after life, after life only to go into the deep end through some devestating tragedy before repeating it over and over and over again.

**Die**, suffer, reborn, repeat. Die, **suffer**, reborn, repeat. ... Fuck, this playlist sucks.

Wait, what was I talking about?

Oh yeah.

There are some people in this world that believe in reincarnation, and there are people in this world who **live** to be reincarnated. People who know about the red string of faith and have caught sight... hell, maybe even just a glimpse of the person, who's tied to the other end.

People who're lucky enough to have, wait for it- _soulmates_.

Of course life isn't perfect for **anyone** (except maybe celebreties but no one really knows do they?) How many people do you know have told you they've done it? Found the one, found their other half, found their soulmate.

I'm telling you I know one _lucky_ bastard. He found his soulmate the first time and he only lost him once before they got together again. Of course he went through a shit ton of crap before they got together that second time but hey, that's life!

I'm sadly not as lucky, not that I'm surprised since life just loves to screw me over and for some reason fate hates me. If you've got the time, not that I c-care or anything... I'm willing to tell you about how I found my soulmate.

Yes, yes bastard, I've found him don't look so surrpised. Lost him six hundred and seventy-eight times but now I have him and n-not that it's any of your business or a-anything, but I'm... never gonna let him go, b-but that's only because he needs someone to look after him dammit! He'd lose his head if it wasn't attached to his body for crying out loud!

To start this story, I'll use a quote that someone very unimportant right now (but will show up at some point in the story) told me.

"Death, my dear Lovino, is only the _beginning_."

... **_Shit, that stupid line still gives me the creeps._**

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><p>Uhhh, hi there! This was drawn out of my thoughts for some reason and I just wrote it to pacify the plot bunny in my head. I'm surprisingly pleased with the overall general plot though, so if you could leave me your thoughts? Think it has potential?<p>

Nique


	2. Chapter 1

I felt fat.

The suit wasn't helping dissuade that feeling. Not one bit. Of course, it was a possibility that the mirror was at fault. But it couldn't be the latter, because Sophia Madrigal Vargas would rather die than have a faulty mirror in her house.

No everything inside the house was properly picked after being observed, scrutinized, weighed, and tested for durability all the while considering how it'll it in with the rest of the house items.

There was no room for error. No room for faults.

Hence the unlikely probability of the mirror being faulty. Sophia would make sure of that.

And of course, the same goes for a faulty son.

"Lovino, perhaps we should cut back on your dinner portions. You're looking a little... too healthy."

Translation; It wasn't just a feeling- you really are fat.

This was something I had to go through on a daily basis. My mother had nothing better to do at the time than to give all her focus and attention to her darling wonderful children.

Particularly the eldest, which would be me, if that wasn't obvious enough.

Lovino Vargas. The heir. Her prezioso. The one who was next in line.

I didn't really want to inherit any of the things entitled to me but I didn't feel like pushing everything off to my brother either. As such, I had to act as any older brother would do. Like hell was I dooming my fratellino with a life of responsibility and entrapment when I could handle it myself.

I'm not saying Feliciano can't handle it. Don't misunderstand because he is a Vargas and Vargas' are perfectly capable of standing on their own two feet. Yes, incredulous bastard, even sweet and dear Feliciano.

You'd be surprised by what thoughts have passed through my fratellino's mind. You'd do well to remember that behind a smiling face is a plotting mind full of mischief.

And he could pay me back in another life. Yes. I was... somewhat aware. I don't always remember all my past lives. After every rebirth you kinda forget what happened the last eighty-three or so times. You still remember the most recent dozen or so lives but no more than that.

Why? I don't fucking know. It's just how it worked. The creators that be were too busy to provide instruction manuals but if I figure it out I'll let you know.

Anyways, why am I telling you all this? Well. To put it simply- I'm honestly not gonna bore you with every single life (it's not because I don't r-remember them dammit!) I'd had before I met... him. Dio no I'd never put anyone through that torture. Instead, I'll get on ahead and tell you about how we met.

Or didn't meet.

But we did meet in the end.

... It's hard to explain dammit!

Funny though how fate works. I did my hardest to avoid meeting him but...

Picture this. You have the heir, me. Born privileged, entitled to all good things, and a life without work- or at least manual labor.

Then, you have him. Poor man's poor son living life by routine, day in and day out. A never ending cycle. A wheel that never turned.

We were so far apart. And yet. We were so close.

As a man of my position, I wasn't meant to mingle with the so called common people. I didn't think that way because "people are still people. Fuck what the circles say!" and all that crap about being better than the social collars clasped around our necks.

Easier said than done.

Expectations, stipulations, and prohibitions. You've no idea how many rules I had over my head. Disobeying them would mean turning my back on my family, choosing to rebel when all I've been asked to do is to do these and to not do these.

Dio mio I can already hear the disembodied voices- dishonor on you, dishonor on your family, and fuckity fuck yes dishonor on your stupid damn cow too! Or horse. We didn't have a cow. Horses, those we got plenty.

To a common man though, something as minute as rules, frankly, didn't exist.

"Hola!"

He started the conversation. As perusual, the greeting wasn't directed to me. It was directed to Kiku, Feliciano's personal tutor and friend.

The Asian man, employed and paid generously by my parents, always spoke on behalf of my brother and consequently myself when Roderich was unavailable. Roderich was my tutor, older than I was by... a decade maybe. He had such a timeless face it's as if he didn't age- creepy.

He interceded and acted as an envoy whenever my brother and I were allowed that rare trip to the market. When Roderich was unavailable, like I said, Kiku took over his job of keeping us away from them.

Kiku spoke kindly to him, as he was inclined to do and at the time I chose to ignore them. I was tired and my suit was hot and stuffy (DIO was I really putting on weight?!). I honestly just wanted to go home.

"You're name is Feliciano? How cute!"

Tch. Stupid Feli. He knows better than to talk to them. This man could lose his head.

"And what is your name?"

I ignored him. Heck I didn't even glance at his direction. My thoughts were on only one thing; my bed. My lovely bed with all my pillows that would probably be warm from the afternoon sun and oh so welcoming for an early evening siesta.

I sighed and glared at my fratello's back. "Feliciano will you hurry up? I want to go home."

There were eyes on me. I could feel them and yes, as you can guess- I ignored them.

Until a pomodoro floated into my field of vision.

"Perhaps you'll spare me a glance?"

I turned my head and did more than just that.

I couldn't. Fucking. Look away.

"You have lovely eyes."

I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat.

I don't know what _his_ eyes looked like because I was too stuck starring at the tomato in his hand.

And guess what else was on his hand- or more specifically his ring finger.

That's fucking right.

The **stupid** string of **fucking** _**fate**_.

That was the moment we met you know, rather anticlimactic. He didn't save me from a burning house and no we didn't bump into each other as if fate decided it would be nice to trip me like some damsel, which I am fucking **not**, straight into his arms.

No. He offered me a tomato.

And to an innocent bystander- I just couldn't look away.

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><p>AN: Hey there! I finally got around to writing this. I'm so sorry it took so long. Life got in the way. Thank you for all the faves, follows, and reviews! I appreciate each na every one of them! Hope you guys are still reading! Send me your thoughts!<p>

Nique


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